Good night, John
by Colster
Summary: Some short stuff about some people that's also maybe in space sometimes.
1. Goodnight, John

Here's your fair warnings: 1) I can't write Chief worth shit and 2) Don't expect to understand what happened leading up to this story. Have fun using your imagination. I wrote this mostly for fun (and for one of the few people who I know can write Chief/knows why I wrote this so she can laugh at me).

* * *

'Mrs. John Chief' dropped the basket that had been delivered to their room onto the bed and plucked off the tag to read it aloud.

"To the newlyweds," she mocked, "John and Samus Chief. I can't believe they actually believed that was your name."

Chief ignored her, too busy reviewing the parameters of their mission. They were undercover, investigating some of the officials on the planet. Either one of them could've handled it alone (though the Chief worried about Samus' tendencies to act reckless when he left her unsupervised), the cultural differences of the system would have made a single man or woman of their age look odd. About the last thing they wanted to do was draw more attention to themselves.

Samus occupied herself by looking through the basket sent to them by presumably the manager of the hotel they were staying it. It was a swanky place. They seemed likely to do things like that.

Samus came across a box and gave off an amused noised when she read the text across the front side. Chief looked up from his work raising an eyebrow. Samus didn't find much amusing. She turned the box so Chief could read the lettering.

"I guess we intimidated them," she said with a hint of taunting in her voice, "because I guess they don't really want more of us around."

Her companion frowned. He half wished he had his armor on right now. At least Samus wouldn't have been able to see the look on his face right now (though she had a tendency to see right through the mirrored faceplate and know anyway nine times out of ten).

"They even guessed you're size, Chief. They were really thinking-" but she was cut off when he reached over and plucked the box from her hands before tossing it into the trash can. He added, "I don't think we have to worry about that anyway."

"I can't anyway." Samus paused before realizing how oddly personal the fact that just slipped out of her mouth was. She hadn't meant to share it. Why did she?

Chief didn't pry. He never did… but he couldn't stop the look he shoots her, clearly confused why she suddenly got so personal. They didn't exactly sit around and spill out the details of their lives to each other.

Samus opened her mouth like she wanted to pull the words-but she couldn't-and they hung in the air. The both of them looked away, avoiding the eyes of the other at all cost. It was Chief who spoke after the eternally long few seconds. "I'm-" he didn't know what to say. Sorry? Was that appropriate in this situation.

Samus waved him off before he could finish anyway. Nothing to be sorry about she seemed to say, "Poorly understood radioactive materials cause unpredicted side-effects after long periods of exposure." She shrugged before adding, "Life goes on."

Samus sat down on the bed next to Chief, unsure of what to add-if anything. Chief's work lay unattended on the omnicomm in front of him. The silence hung heavy again. Finally, "In all honesty, ma'am, it's not really like either of us live the lifestyle." It's meant to be a joke, to lighten the mood at least. Honestly, it was a thought that had never really crossed his mind until this moment right now. And he couldn't help but think that neither of them would be very fit parents.

Those thoughts were apparently echoed in Samus' mind. "It's not exactly something I ever considered until-"

She didn't need to finish. She didn't really want to finish. She knew well enough Chief already had the name in his mind. Komali. The little Rito boy had turned up in Samus' life one day and changed it. As if she didn't already carry the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders, he had quadrupled her responsibilities. Everyone knew they had connected. Chief was one of the few who knew how much. Not many realized how Samus would go to the end of the universe to protect the ship. She would do double that for Komali.

And she didn't let anyone see how much it hurt her when he was put back into the pods, which is precisely how Chief knew it did. The harder Samus tried to block people out, the deeper the understanding of Chief's boss' feelings became. Neither of them acknowledged this out loud though. Samus could go on pretending Chief wasn't privy to her most private personal feelings. Chief could go on pretending that he hadn't developed such a connection with his boss.

Her lip tugged downward in a sort of disapproval of the thoughts running through her mind at that moment. She gets up from the bed to step in front of the mirror and retie her hair back out of her face. When she turns back to face Chief, her expression is back to the unreadable look that she normally wore. "Never mind. Like you said. Don't exactly have the time for family. We have a job to do."

"And one tomorrow."

"Right," she agreed. "It's late. We should sleep."

Chief nodded in agreement, setting the omnicomm aside before lifting the covers and settling on his side. Samus turned off the lights and slid in next to him back-to-back, the sleeping arrangement they always used in such close quarters.

"Good night, Samus," Chief offered. He felt her shift a little at the use of her name. His habit of calling her ma'am was broken just for this moment. Samus settled back into the mattress and said, "Good night, John."


	2. Cold

Uh so I wrote something a while ago and I guess I'll put it here? I was inspired to update this I guess. Again, this is just a little snippet from a way too complicated set up of two interconnecting fictional universes I've spent way too much time thinking about so uh... use your imagination! Also Samus has a prosthetic arm because I don't know. It adds ~*drama*~

* * *

It was cold. It was _damn_ cold.

She twisted her fingers around, trying to warm them up. She brought them up to her mouth and breathed into her closed palms, but the cold fog didn't help much. Why did he live on such a cold planet? She glanced again to the window; the soft warm light illuminated the snowflakes that floated past. At least he was probably home, she supposed. If he still lived there. If he still lived at all.

No, don't think about that. He probably still worked his office job, as much as he hated it. As selfish as it was, though, she couldn't help but like the fact that he wasn't in too much danger day to day. She'd never admit that to him, and she'd take him along in a heartbeat if he offered. Zebes knows how many times she could have used his help. She unconsciously reached her left hand to the seam on her right shoulder where flesh met plastic. Difficulties with her arm had gotten her in more than just hot water lately, and her circumstances over the past few months led to her completely severing contact for awhile. Galactic prisons don't have the best comm channel reception.

She was here though. On her way out of the Federation system so quickly that she didn't bother to even give notice she was still alive. And now she was standing at his doorstep in the snow too afraid to knock. She took a deep breath to compose herself. She lifted her fist to knock, and… she couldn't do it. She frowned. What was stopping her? She didn't want to know if he wasn't there. She didn't want to know if he was mad at her for disappearing for the, what, third time now? She knew it was ridiculous. She knew he wouldn't be mad. She knew she was being irrational, but that didn't help.

She didn't want to admit that she was tired. She didn't want to admit how much she wanted to call it quits. She didn't want to admit that she missed him more than she missed her job. She didn't want to admit how much it scared her that she would give up everything just to have a few more moments with him. She was scared to admit she didn't know what she wanted or what she needed or what to do to make it happen anymore.

The sound of footsteps through the door drew her out of her flurry of worries, and she heard the lock click. The door opened, and he wore a face that was entirely unsurprised.

"Hey."

"Hey."

And that's all she needed for now.


End file.
